PM - 40

The winter sun was shining just right, warmly casting its rays on the two people under the eaves. Fu Wei smiled at the Princess-Regent and said, “Auntie, look how well they match.”

“Not a chance,” thought the Princess-Regent. She had no choice but to feign agreement with a slight nod. Although Zha was good, he was still a bit too old for Langlang. If she could be matched with the young emperor, that would be perfect. They were only three years apart, grew up together, one might even say they were childhood sweethearts. In time, their affection would deepen, and what would it matter if she wasn’t made Empress? She could be disposed of easily! As for the princes, they were the favored sons of heaven, and with the backing of her family’s power, seizing the throne wouldn’t cost them much effort.

What should have been a natural progression was ruined by that adopted son. The Princess-Regent was extremely frustrated, blaming themselves for finding out about the young emperor’s intention to select an empress far too late. One wrong move led to the whole game being lost, it was infuriating. For the greater good, the young emperor betrothed Langlang to Shangguan Zhao. In the long run, not entering the palace meant being unrelated to the imperial throne—this trip was futile. But from a personal standpoint, it wasn’t so bad... Perhaps staying away from politics and finding a decent future was the best for Langlang.

The Princess-Regent folded her hands and watched, thinking that just because they didn’t match now didn’t mean they wouldn’t in a couple of years. Zhao was eight years older than Langlang, but what did eight years matter? As long as they could wait, it would still be a beautiful marriage.

Langlang, having been raised delicately and still quite young, spoke very directly. She tiptoed, comparing herself with Shangguan Zhao, then lifted her smiling face, sunlight reflecting in her eyes, pure and unblemished like a child’s.

“Does Brother think I am too young? If I were to marry His Majesty, our ages would be quite close, but marrying Brother, you would surely think me too young, right?”

This statement made everyone a bit awkward, but Shangguan Zhao was adept at soothing children: “Langlang shouldn’t worry about being too young; rather, I should worry about being too old to be worthy of Princess Wengzhu.”

Langlang was very generous and comforted him not to think this way: “I like handsome people the most. When I first heard that His Majesty arranged my marriage, I was unhappy, fearing my husband would be too ugly and give me nightmares. But now seeing Brother, your eyes are so beautiful, I think you must be a gentle husband. Langlang likes you very much.”

Ah, liking is good enough. Not only Fu Wei, but even the Princess-Regent smiled happily. There isn’t a mother in the world who doesn’t hope for her children’s happiness. As long as she is pleased, whether or not she enters the palace is unimportant.

But while everyone else felt satisfied, Shangguan Zhao couldn’t smile. He turned back to look at the young emperor, who was full of youthful vigor, probably quite pleased with his own plan. He lowered his head, unable even to sigh. To achieve his plan, every sacrifice was worth it.

Fu Wei naturally saw the dimness in his eyes. At first, she intended to ignore it, but that glance just now left her utterly embarrassed. She began to ponder: how hard it must have been for him to speak about the person he liked. If possible, perhaps she should find that girl for him. Many lords have multiple wives and concubines; allowing him to fulfill his wish would be some recompense.

“Your Majesty.” Just as she was distracted, Langlang tugged at her sleeve, “When will Your Majesty marry the Empress?”

Fu Wei replied, “In five days.”

Langlang beamed brilliantly, “Is the Emperor’s bride beautiful?”

Fu Wei nodded, “The Empress is very beautiful, gentle, and lovely.”

“The Emperor’s wedding will surely be grand.” Langlang looked envious, “When I get married in the future, can Your Majesty preside over it?”

Fu Wei patted her head gently, “Of course, you are all my family. On your wedding day, I will definitely attend.”

Zhao and Langlang’s wedding was scheduled for March next year because the Guannei Marquis Mansion needed to be renovated and prepared for the wedding, and it couldn’t be rushed. Moreover, Lord Gai and his wife took their youngest daughter’s marriage very seriously. By next March, Langlang would be thirteen years old, and a thirteen-year-old bride couldn’t be considered too young.

After leaving Jingfu Palace, Fu Wei continued to observe Shangguan Zhao’s mood. He was a competent attendant, always alert and cautious. However, the gloom clouding his brow made his eyes lose their usual brilliance, becoming foggy instead.

Fu Wei sighed softly. What should she say? Words of comfort were long past. When the emperor traveled, yellow-robed attendants and courtiers accompanied him, and the scent from the gilded incense burner in the servants’ hands filled the air, masking everything else. She gestured, dismissing those around her, leaving only her and Shangguan Zhao in the garden. With rare leisure, they walked side by side, and she glanced at him as she walked, “Zhao, aren’t you happy?”

Shangguan Zhao forced a smile, “I am not.”

“I know you don’t want to marry Langlang. You harbor resentment, but I won’t blame you if you scold me.”

How could she blame him? If he loved someone so much, even if he asked for his death, he would bear no grudge. He shook his head, “Between Your Majesty and me, there is no resentment. Besides, everyone must eventually marry. Your Majesty is getting married in five days, and even a sovereign’s marriage is often beyond one’s control, let alone mine.”

She sensed the helplessness of succumbing to fate and reflected on her own situation, which seemed bleak and uncertain.

“A true man cannot control his love or hate in this world. Your misfortune was caused by me, but whose fault is my misfortune? Even I don’t know.” She turned to gaze at the distant mountain scenery, layers upon layers of mountains stretching far away like continuous dark clouds. Hands behind her back, she muttered, “Today in court, I discussed northern border defense with the Chancellor. To resist the Wuhuan raids, we need to add another commandery. Appointing officials for the commandery offers a good opportunity to reduce the Chancellor’s influence. I intend to assign the Central Captain Wei Guang and two cavalry commanders from the eight regiments to oversee military affairs in the commanderies, relinquishing authority in the capital to place trustworthy men in these positions. For civil officials, led by the Chief Censor, offer high-ranking posts, dispatch whomever we can...” She turned to ask him with a smile, “What do you think of this move?”

Promoting yet subtly demoting—if smoothly implemented, it would indeed be an excellent political maneuver.

Shangguan Zhao nodded, “Your Majesty has truly changed a lot from before. When I was sent back to Wuling, my biggest worry was you, fearing you’d be constrained by others and develop a weak, pleasure-seeking nature... Now it seems I worried unnecessarily. Given time, power will surely return to Your Majesty’s hands.”

She gave a wry laugh towards the vast sky, “But this ‘given time’ might take decades, and that thought alone is terrifying.”

He was actually curious about the relationship between the Chancellor and the young emperor, but as an attendant, his duty was merely to relieve the emperor’s worries. Those private matters were none of his business; he couldn’t even bring them up.

The cold wind rustled, a bit chilly. The young emperor turned back towards Deyang Palace; historically, after the cold season arrived, the main hall for official discussions moved from Quefei to Deyang. Deyang Palace was the main hall of the Northern Palace, part of which served as living quarters for the inner family, while other parts like Guanghua Hall and Hook Shield Office remained for external court use.

The young emperor walked ahead, and he followed behind. Today, the young emperor wore a green embroidered robe with flowing wide sleeves, showing a rare sign of life amidst the desolate season. Originally pleasing to the eye, but he must have brushed against something earlier, as there was a leaf-sized stain on his buttocks, black and indistinct in origin. Naturally unaware, the young emperor continued walking casually, while Shangguan Zhao stared intently for a moment. A disheveled appearance was unsightly for an emperor, so he removed his cloak and draped it over the young emperor’s shoulders.

Fu Wei murmured, “I’m not cold...”

Zhao simply smiled, “Something is stuck on Your Majesty’s robe; use my cloak to cover it.”

She froze momentarily, heart skipping a beat, her face flushing, “You saw... what?”

He found nothing improper, “It must be ink, or maybe blood...” Watching the young emperor’s face turn redder and redder, like fiery clouds at sunset, his words caught in his throat, sensing something unusual. Then looking again, the young emperor wasted no time, hurrying out through Yunlong Gate—not heading to Deyang Palace but rushing towards the direction of the Eastern Palace.

Hopefully, it wasn’t what she feared. Fu Wei prayed as she walked. Calculating the time, more than ten days off, it shouldn’t be. Back at Zhangde Palace, she dismissed everyone, removed her deep garment to check her back, and immediately paled at the sight.

Fear knocked on her door. Strangely, she hadn’t felt anything this time. Heaven sure loves playing tricks on her. How far had she unknowingly carried this living billboard? How many pairs of eyes had seen it?

She dropped the clothing, letting it fall to the ground, overcome by shame and regret, tears welling up in anger at the bloodstained robe. This was her greatest fear, sometimes haunting her dreams with such terrifying scenes. So she had always been cautious. Estimating when the time was near, she wore her menstrual belt, dressed only in dark clothes, preparing days in advance to avoid any mishaps. Yet why did this happen this time? She couldn’t understand.

Perhaps even an emperor reaches the end someday! She staggered to her feet, walking to the charcoal-burning stove in the center of the hall, throwing the robe inside. The acrid smell of burning fabric assaulted her nose as she stood silently, watching the blue flames devour everything. Then calmly tidying up the aftermath, she began considering how to handle the situation moving forward.

The sun was setting, and she walked into the jagged shadows cast by the straight lattice windows, her steps slow. Patchy light briefly illuminated her silk shoes. Upon reaching the palace gate, she grasped the door ring and pulled it open with force, the panel door slamming against the frame with a thunderous sound. Outside under the corridor stood nervous Jianye and two attendants. She put on a smile, “Why are all of you waiting here? Has something happened?”

Her words momentarily eased everyone. Jianye patted his knee, “It’s time for the evening meal, Your Majesty should dine.”

She nodded, “There’s nothing urgent. Attendants may leave the palace and return home tonight.”

“Yes,” Hu Lu Puzhao bowed and acknowledged, ready to retreat when he noticed Shangguan Zhao standing motionless, causing him to pause as well.

Fu Wei frowned, coldly eyeing Shangguan Zhao, “Does the attendant have something to say?”

Shangguan Zhao snapped back to attention, clasping his hands and bowing deeply, retreating step by step until he exited the emperor’s sleeping chamber.

The six palace attendants who accompanied him disappeared without a trace the next day, reportedly executed by the掖庭狱 for inadequately serving the young emperor. After hearing this, Shangguan Zhao broke out in a cold sweat. In this deep palace, human lives counted for little, sometimes less than a cup or a pair of chopsticks.

Winter weather tended to be overcast, the sky low, with rain always looming. With the emperor’s wedding approaching, except for a few offices preparing for the ceremony, life went on as usual for others. Nights were cold, and the attendants stayed in the duty quarters, warming themselves by the fire and drinking tea. Chatting idly, Hu Lu praised his upcoming marriage greatly.

“Such a good match,” Hu Lu laughed, “A match made in heaven that money can’t buy. However, the Gai Marquis residence is known for strict rules, and your new mansion needs proper staff. Have you prepared the servants well?”

“It’s hard to find skilled ones right away,” Shangguan Zhao shook his head, “I’ve been busy with palace affairs and haven’t had time to manage home matters.”

Hu Lu laughed subtly, “Finding someone tactful yet presentable is truly difficult. Wengzhu is young, and you are in your prime. Concubines and handmaidens are naturally indispensable...”

Before finishing, he got a punch from Shangguan Zhao. Hu Lu, a couple of years older, worked with him closely, and they had a good rapport, often joking without offending each other. After some playful banter, Hu Lu finally apologized to settle the matter. Drinking was forbidden during duty hours, so they clinked teacups instead. Later, mention of the Yeting Prefect’s visit inadvertently came up, and Hu Lu’s expression turned solemn instantly.

“What the top doesn’t know is that all the Jingfu Palace attendants were exiled by the Yeting Prefect to a distant land. Today, Prefect Zhang came to Zhangde Palace for this matter.”

Shangguan Zhao’s heart thudded. He knew it was just those attendants now, but soon it might be the Princess-Regent, Wengzhu, himself, or even Marquis Gai Zhou... He wasn’t sure if his suspicions were baseless, but linking countless causes and effects, that ominous cloud loomed overhead, suffocating him.

If everything was truly as he imagined... he dare not think further. It was a shocking secret, and with the young emperor’s decisiveness, no loose ends would remain. He vaguely saw his future—there seemed to be no way out. If it really came to that, his regret wouldn’t be about other things, but that arranged marriage would be the gravest mistake. He remembered little Aying, pitifully standing under the osmanthus tree with tear-filled eyes. Time flies; in just six short years, he had become sharp-edged, unrecognizable.

Should he call him or her? He lived freely in Wuling, the third son of the Pingchang Marquis, a talented youth basking in success. At twenty, having no handmaidens was inconceivable, so he understood women and the differences between men and women. Facing the young emperor, he had doubted but dared not suspect, attributing it to emotional confusion. But what was the truth? That fleeting stain on the robe kept replaying in his mind, coupled with the young emperor’s subsequent behavior and various past incidents echoing remotely, enough to make his soul scatter.

Accompanying the sovereign was like walking with a tiger. Today’s Aying was no longer yesterday’s Aying. Lowering his head, he swirled the tea in his cup and poured the emerald liquid onto the green brick floor.

“Ziqing, did you see the empress’s appearance that day?”

Hu Lu Puzhao was startled, “Why do you suddenly ask this? Can we casually discuss the empress’s appearance?”

He smirked, “Just private talk between brothers, is it necessary to take it so seriously?”

Hu Lu sighed in relief, recalling the events of the day the young emperor fell ill, slowly shaking his head, “The empress always travels with a veil; we can’t see her face. Plus, the Chancellor leads the entourage, and no one dares to verify.”

So if this were true, even the Chancellor was aware, meaning even if the young emperor wanted to keep him, the Chancellor wouldn’t allow it.

He was lost in thought, and Hu Lu, noticing his abnormality, was about to inquire when a yellow-robed eunuch came to summon Shangguan Zhao to meet the emperor. He paused briefly, set down his teacup, picked up his sword, and exited the duty quarters.

The October wind cut across his face like a knife. Already burdened by his armor, his steps felt heavier with the weight on his mind. The young emperor was still reviewing memorials from the Secretariat in the bedroom hall. He stopped at the palace gate, respectfully reported, “Your subject Zhao, seeking audience with Your Majesty.”

A voice from within commanded, “Enter.” He took a breath and stepped inside.

The young emperor sat in the embroidered canopy, the shimmering light from the goose-foot lamp illuminating his face, gentle and devoid of any sharpness. Hearing his footsteps, he didn’t even lift an eyelid, “With the wedding imminent, the arrangements are too numerous and complicated, giving me a headache. The day after tomorrow, the Grand Marshal and Grand Tutor will represent me in the wedding procession. To prevent unforeseen complications, you shall lead the Southern Palace guards to escort the route. In case of emergency, you may act first and report later.”

Shangguan Zhao clasped his hands and accepted the order, “Yes.”

“And,” the young emperor wrote swiftly with his brush but gave clear instructions, “The chancellor of the Wei state has arrived in the capital today, presenting a letter to the office. I haven’t had time to receive him yet. Tomorrow, go to the Four Directions Pavilion to meet him and see if he brought any decisions regarding the disposition of Tianyi by the King of Wei...”

“Yes.”

Finally, the person at the upper seat put down his brush and looked up, seemingly noticing his oddness, and smiled slightly, “Zhao, why are you different today? Do you have something to say to me?”

He gazed at her sorrowfully, with thousands of words yet unable to start. She rose from her mat, wearing the same bright eyes, but even smiling, he felt her smile held deeper meaning, unable to view her as before.

“Why does it feel like the attendant has grown distant from me? Did I do something wrong to offend the attendant?”

Shangguan Zhao bowed deeply, “Your Majesty speaks too highly of me; I am apprehensive...”

She suddenly grasped his hand, speaking warmly, “Zhao, we grew up together since we were young. When I was vulnerable, you were by my side. My feelings for you far exceed your imagination. No matter what happens, I trust only you the most. I hope you can remain unchanged like the bright moon.”

Her fingertips were slightly cool, but her palm was warm. Shangguan Zhao looked at her, his heart gradually settling, and he opened his mouth to say, “For Your Majesty, I live and die. It was true in the past, and it will be truer in the future.”

Hearing this, her smile finally reached her eyes, saying wistfully, “As an emperor, there are too many things beyond my control. Even if I don’t say it, someone like you who knows me well will understand. How can I explain it to you? Saying too much diminishes its value. Only one thing: if you see me as Buddha, then I will forever be Buddha; if you see me as a demon, then I have no choice but to become one. Everything depends on you. Do you understand what I mean?”

His nose suddenly filled with the sting of tears, he couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, only nodding with downcast eyes, “I know... I know, Aying.”

She exhaled deeply, holding his hand and guiding it toward hers, pressing her lips through her fingers, saying hoarsely, “I have one more task to entrust to you: keep an eye on Princess Dingyang and Wengzhu. I am not heartless; I don’t wish to reach that point. But if it becomes inevitable, then...”

He saw the flames of war in her eyes, with no other choice but to grit his teeth and agree.